To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.
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The Art of War
Sun Tzu

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Waking up from being knocked unconscious was not like what they showed in the movies.

There was no jolting upright, no dramatic gasping for air. There was no sudden recollection of everything that had happened moments before falling into that still, silent, and shadowy void. And there was no instant awareness of your surroundings, no immediate fight-or-flight response that triggered one into action.

No, there was none of that.

Instead, Jungkook's eyes slowly fluttered open, finding nothing but blurry darkness before him. An odd jostling sensation irritated a dull throbbing at the back of his skull, adding to the uncomfortable feeling of blood rushing to his head. It appeared he was upside down, dangling helplessly as he moved through the mild night air.

Well, technically he wasn't moving.

Jungkook was draped over the shoulder of a bulky man, whose labored breathing added to the cracks and snaps of the branches underfoot. An unrelenting grip around his thighs held him in place, though his unsecured arms flapped lifelessly against the guy's back. They weaved through the woods at an effortlessly fast pace - dodging trees and following a zigzag path - which was surprising considering his added weight.

It took twenty more seconds for Jungkook to remember why he was in this position in the first place, and when he did . . .

Taehyung.

What had happened to Taehyung?

Vivid images flooded Jungkook's mind as he remembered in perfect clarity the moonlit walk that ended with gunshots. He remembered the bite of Taehyung's nails against his skin as they frantically scrambled through the trees, fleeing from their unknown and violent aggressor. He remembered the burn of his lungs and the strain on his muscles as they headed deeper and deeper into the shadows. He remembered the sting of bark digging into his palms as he was forced to hide, watching as his love melted into the cover of darkness with his weapon raised. And he remembered witnessing a hooded figure slowly emerge, gun aimed and ready to shoot an unmistakable target.

Jungkook had not hesitated.

He'd hurled himself at the person, thoughts consumed with protecting his love at all costs. He didn't stop to think about what might happen if he failed; he just knew that failing was not an option. But as he attempted to throw a punch to immobilize the attacker, a thick pair of arms had wrapped around his stomach. His terrorized plea for Taehyung to run was cut off as a harsh blow connected with the back of his head, reducing his vision to bursts of stars before it inevitably faded to black.

And then there was nothing, nothing but a soundless and colorless solitude that temporarily transported Jungkook somewhere very far away from the countryside of Daegu.

It wasn't evident how long he lost consciousness for, but now that he was alert once more, a gnawing urgency to locate Taehyung overtook his senses. Lifting his head and swallowing down the waves of nausea, he surveyed the shaded and muted scenery. The dim lighting made it difficult to see much of anything, but he realized they were nearing the woods' edge and approaching open farmlands. This was where he and Taehyung had come from minutes earlier, which thankfully meant he wasn't knocked out for too long. Hopefully, that also meant he didn't sustain any extensive brain damage; on top of everything else going on at the moment, he couldn't exactly afford to deal with a concussion.

When it became obvious that Taehyung wasn't within sight, Jungkook strained his ears for any signs of a struggle or a chase. That proved to be ineffective as well; the heavy wheezes of his captor - in addition to the clumsy footsteps from another hooded person to the left - drowned out any other distinguishable sounds.

The desire to assume the worst was strong. With no indication that Taehyung trailed closely behind - no evidence that he was alive and unharmed - it would be all too easy to let paranoia consume his mind. But just because he couldn't see his boyfriend did not mean he was bleeding out on the ground or was seized by another assailant. For all he knew, maybe Taehyung managed to flee and was headed back to the safety of the bunker.

Yeah, that was bullshit, but Jungkook didn't want to consider the alternatives.

So instead, he pushed aside the rising swell of dizziness and forced in deep, calming breaths. The only thing he had power over now was finding a way to escape. If he didn't, these faceless attackers could very well take him somewhere more remote to lure Taehyung into a trap. And if that occurred, Jungkook knew exactly what would go down. His angel - his boyfriend, his love, his other half - would not hesitate to hand himself over in exchange for Jungkook's freedom.

And in order to prevent that scenario from unfolding, the only option Jungkook saw was to throw a tantrum worthy of a brat.

"Let me go," he snarled in a fierce and intimidating tone, kicking into his captor's stomach with as much force as possible. He knew he hit his mark when a satisfying grunt reached his ears.

"Fucking shit," the guy let out, tightening his grip as he fought to keep Jungkook over his shoulder. "I need the -"

"Got it," the second attacker affirmed, suddenly appearing right in front of Jungkook's face. He had something in his hand. "Take a deep breath, kid."

"Wait -"

A soft cloth pressed over his nose and mouth, eliminating the chance for Jungkook to make a retort. He instinctively inhaled as he fought to dislodge the fabric, but immediately regretted that as a harsh and pungent smell filled his nostrils. The world around him tilted on its axis, the ground below and the night sky above merging into one. A fuzziness clouded his eyesight, which was only made worse by his attempts to hold his breath.

And as they continued running - with seconds ticking by and turning into minutes - Jungkook gradually stopped struggling. Exhaustion weighed down his bones, and his thoughts evened out until he forgot why he wanted to escape in the first place. The edges of his vision increasingly grew darker and darker, the erratic beating of his heart eventually calmed, and everything around him became still, silent, and shadowy once more.

He was slipping . . .

Slipping . . .

Gone.

Jungkook ceased to exist as he floated in his own personal oblivion, a blank slate of nothingness that defied space and time. His consciousness yet again dissipated, sinking back into that blissful void and surrendering his hopes and dreams and fears. He didn't hear the sounds of footsteps echoing off the quiet fields and didn't feel the brush of corn stalks against his cheeks. He didn't see the looming presence of a house wrapped in police tape steadily grow larger and larger.

He was lost to everything, aware of nothing.

Until he became aware of something:

People talking.

The sound of hushed voices coaxed Jungkook back into consciousness, the words muffled and the topic of conversation unclear. But, judging by the confrontational and threatening tones utilized, someone out there was pissed.

Jungkook hesitantly opened his eyes, finding himself in a dark bedroom weakly illuminated by faint traces of moonlight. Once his vision adjusted to the lack of lighting, he found a relatively bare space with few decorations or homey touches. But despite the lack of furniture and personal items, the room gave off a safe and cozy ambiance - especially after he realized that he was the only occupant.

For now.

A moderately-sized bed cushioned his sore limbs, with a warm blanket thrown over his body to ward off the chilly night. One of his captors, apparently, had decided to be accommodating and considerate. If he could figure out his more compassionate assailant's identity, he might just be able to use that to his advantage.

Hopefully, however, he could figure out a way to escape without a confrontation. He wasn't necessarily in the mood to encounter more people with guns, so practicing discretion and laying low were undoubtedly the more desirable options. But as he sat up and prepared to get the hell out of here, a heavy wooziness caused him to tilt backward. Whatever chemical those attackers used against him was certainly effective; not only had it knocked him out before, but now it left him feeling weak and shaky.

Fleeing would be next to impossible in this state.

"Fuck," Jungkook breathed, burying his head in his hands as he waited for the room to stop spinning. His fingers ran through his tangled hair, accidentally brushing against the tender area at the back of his skull. A wince tightened his features as he intentionally probed the area, searching for any wet or sticky substances matted to his skin. Luckily there were none, meaning the hit he sustained earlier wasn't forceful enough to make him bleed.

By the time his nausea passed, the voices outside the bedroom had faded until it was eerily silent. All Jungkook could hear was the raspy breaths leaving his mouth and the pounding of blood in his ears, both of which somehow managed to put him more on edge. So he forced himself to breathe quietly through his nose and kept still as he waited for someone to return.

No one did.

"Okay," Jungkook said in an attempt to motivate himself, standing on trembling legs and taking a few cautionary steps. He wasn't going to just sit here patiently, waiting for someone to open the door and yell surprise! No, he was done playing the part of the obedient victim.

Glancing out the bedroom's solitary window, he saw nothing but leafy trees swaying in a gentle breeze. But, based on his vantage point, he was able to discern that he was on the second floor of this house. That reduced his escape routes to just one: the door.

And what was on the other side - who was on the other side - remained to be revealed.

But Jungkook didn't think about the potential dangers that waited for him. If he solely focused on his apprehension, unpreparedness, or inability to properly defend himself or Taehyung, he wouldn't make it three meters outside of this room. He had to be brave; he had to concentrate on saving his love from the monsters lingering inside these halls.

So he summoned the presence of his angel - hearing the deep timbres of his voice, seeing the blinding beauty of his smile, and luxuriating under the gentle caress of his hands - and determined to evade these attackers no matter what.

Taehyung's life depended on his success right here and right now.

Before stepping outside of the temporary safety of the room, Jungkook quickly ran his hands over his body to confirm nothing else was wounded. While he didn't find any other injuries, he did find the bulletless Sig Sauer still tucked into his pants. He doubted his captors purposely let him keep the gun - loaded or not, it was still a weapon - so they probably didn't take the time to search him. And if that was the case, they probably didn't view him as a threat.

If it came down to it, he would use that underestimation to his advantage.

Nodding his head with conviction and resolve, Jungkook silently walked to the door. His heart thrashed ferociously against his ribcage as his fingers wrapped around the handle, that earlier shakiness returning full force. But he pushed through his nerves as he incrementally twisted his wrist, nearly sighing in relief once he found the door was unlocked.

That was one potential hurdle down and approximately only thirty-seven more to go.

But that was okay; it was no big deal. Escaping would be easy peasy lemon squeezy. He could do this, right? Unlike the quotation that was taped to the back of the door, the one that read One may know how to conquer without being able to do it, Jungkook would be able to -

Wait.

That quotation sounded familiar . . . was that from Sun Tzu? And the handwriting . . . oh, fuck. It couldn't be . . . Could it?

Yes.

The handwriting belonged to Namjoon.

No longer were his whereabouts a mystery; Jungkook knew exactly where the attackers had taken him. Because staring him in the eyes was a lesson from his brother's favorite strategist, written in his brother's hand, and taped to the door of his brother's former bedroom.

This was the old safe house . . .

. . . the place Namjoon died.

. . . the place Taehyung witnessed two heinous murders.

. . . the place of so much senseless suffering, which was now being used as both a cage and a trap alike.

Chills erupted over Jungkook's skin as a suffocating weight pressed down on his chest. He wanted to curl up in a ball and hide from the horrors that occurred in this house; he wanted time to speed up so he was anywhere but here.

Fuck.

As much as it unhinged him to be in this godforsaken house, he couldn't begin to imagine how Taehyung would feel being back in this place. So for that reason alone, Jungkook had to run before his love was forced to rescue him. He had to -

Jungkook felt the knob beneath his fingers turn milliseconds before the door swung inward, the force causing him to fall back several steps. Two large men instantly charged inside of the room, guns raised and voices harsh as they barked out demands.

"Hands on your head!"

"Don't move!"

"Well, which one is it?" Jungkook couldn't help but let out, his hands frozen midway in the air. He stared down at his feet, afraid that making eye contact might seem too aggressive. "Hands on my head or don't move? I'd really prefer not to get shot over a miscommunication here."

"Shut the fuck up, Jeon," one of the men ordered, his voice vaguely familiar. It was the same person who put the cloth over his face earlier.

But that was interesting. They knew his name.

Jungkook remained silent, keeping his body motionless and gaze downcast until he was given further instruction. He was rather impressed that he hadn't had a heart attack by now; his heart lurched so violently that there must have been damage to that vital organ.

The sounds of footsteps distracted him from the wild thumping of his heart, and he desperately scrambled to form any type of actionable plan. But the truth of the matter was that two guns were aimed at him; he couldn't exactly use his muscles or charm to his benefit in this scenario.

He was at the complete mercy of these men and anyone they might work under.

The blood drained from his face as the butt of the gun appeared right in front of his eyes, taunting him for a moment before settling just under his chin. The guy forced him to lift his head, and for the first time, Jungkook got a glimpse at one of his captor's faces.

And even though the dark room barely detailed any of the guy's features, he knew one thing: This person was a stranger to him.

"You're lucky you have connections, Jeon," the guy said, irritation tugging down his thin lips. "Otherwise, I'd say you're more trouble than you're worth."

Connections . . . What was that supposed to mean? Was he alluding to Taehyung?

The second attacker edged around the room, heading towards a desk and chair set up in the corner. "Bring him here."

"You heard my colleague," the first guy drawled, nodding his head towards the chair. "Go sit. Stay awhile."

A sarcastic retort threatened to roll off Jungkook's tongue, but he managed to bite down the remark. He instead turned and walked to the chair, quickly eyeing the other guy in curiosity. That face was also unfamiliar.

"Hands in front of you," the same guy said, carelessly holding his weapon with one hand while he fished for something in his pocket with the other.

Taehyung's gun safety lesson came to mind, the one where he spent a good amount of time teaching Jungkook how to handle a gun properly. They reviewed several best practices on engaging the safety and avoiding firing unintentionally, but apparently these two amateurs never sat through such a class. Jungkook had half the mind to lecture them about it, but smartly kept quiet as he extended his arms.

The first attacker approached, craning his neck to observe what his companion was doing. When he saw, he tsked audibly. "Seriously? Zip ties? Don't you have handcuffs?"

"Handcuffs are expensive and not as easy to acquire as zip ties. They're cheap, too. Now hold my gun so I can restrain him," the second guy countered, negligently thrusting his gun into his comrade's hands. The safety most definitely wasn't on. "Hands together, kid."

Jungkook knitted his fingers together, doing his best to hide a grimace as the sharp edges of the plastic ties dug into his wrists. "My friend has a great pair of handcuffs, real stylish. They're lined in pink, but if neon isn't your thing, there are zebra patterns as well. You could always get those -"

"I swear on all that is holy, if you don't fucking shut up, I'll use the chloroform on you again," one of the guys said, but Jungkook was too busy struggling to break the ties to notice who spoke.

After a few seconds of unsuccessfully rotating and twisting his wrists, he gave up. "Chloroform? I thought that stuff was supposed to knock you out instantly. It took a few minutes for me to pass out."

The first guy - or second guy, fuck, Jungkook didn't know anymore - scoffed. "Don't believe everything you see in those action movies, kid. Chloroform requires a few minutes of inhalation to take effect."

That was certainly good to know. If they attempted to use chloroform on him again, Jungkook could easily roll to the ground and make it as difficult as possible for them to keep a cloth over his face. These idiots hadn't actually bound him to the chair, after all, so he could buy himself more time if necessary.

"Alright," the first guy spoke with a smirk, handing the gun back to his colleague. "Here's what's going to happen. First -"

"I don't remember giving you permission to call the shots, Wang," a new voice commented idly, sounding subtly amused even though the undertones were clearly unamused.

Jungkook looked towards the doorway, finding a shadowy figure leaning against the frame. He couldn't distinguish much besides a tall and lean build, but it didn't matter. Even though he had only heard it a couple of times, he knew that voice.

It was Park Bogum.

The two attackers instantly straightened up, temporarily forgetting their diligent watch over Jungkook. They bowed their heads respectfully and stood straight, waiting for whatever was instructed of them.

"Leave," Bogum said without emotion, the words deceivingly soft. "Go downstairs and be useful."

"But, uh, what about the kid?" One of the guys questioned, throwing Jungkook a cursory glance. "Shouldn't we stay in case he tries something?"

Bogum walked further into the room, the pale moon finally shining on his irritatingly handsome features. His eyes instantly found Jungkook's, a haughty gleam evident despite the low light. "Don't worry. He'll cooperate."

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in a challenging sort of gesture, silently indicating he would not cooperate with anything the pretentious prick required of him.

A chilling smile - one displaying perfectly white and even teeth - spread over Bogum's face. "Yes, you'll comply with me, Jungkook. Unless you want something to happen to Taehyung, of course. I have him in the room next to this one, and I'm sure you don't want him to sustain any more injuries, do you?"

Words evaded Jungkook as he stared up at Bogum, searching his face for any signs of dishonesty. There were none. "You . . . You have Tae?"

The arrogant shrug of Bogum's shoulder - an expression meant to look noncommittal - spoke volumes. And if what he said was true . . . If Taehyung really was in the other room, injured and hurt . . .

No.

Jungkook knew he had to be strong; he knew he couldn't afford to break down right now. But fuck, he felt like he couldn't breathe. No matter how many shallow gasps of air he sucked in, his lungs continued to burn and ache for more. Black spots pricked at his vision, all while a painful lump grew at the back of his throat.

Taehyung.

His angel.

"No," the singular word slipped out unintentionally, a pleading denial exhaled on a single breath.

"He won't cause any trouble. Now go." Bogum turned his exacting stare on his cronies, not caring to hide how irritated he was with them. But as they scurried from the room, his annoyance slowly morphed into something more unreadable. "My apologies for those two. From my understanding, they didn't handle you as delicately as I requested."

Jungkook took a moment to control his breathing and pushed thoughts of Taehyung from his mind for now. Losing his cool would not help anyone; if he could pull himself together and remain calm, he could get some helpful information and figure out how to save both himself and Taehyung.

When he remained quiet, Bogum sat on the edge of the bed, putting barely a meter of space between them. He neatly folded his hands together, imitating the same position Jungkook sported. The only difference was that one pose was voluntary and the other was not.

"I take it that you remember me?"

"Barely," Jungkook sneered, doing his best to strengthen his tone and once again don the mask of a brat. He couldn't show any weakness; Bogum would certainly use that to harm Taehyung in some way. "Namjoon never really brought you around."

He expected that comment to irritate the elder slightly more, but Bogum just laughed. "Maybe you haven't heard a lot about me, but I have certainly heard a lot about you. Your brother talked about you nonstop, always explaining that you were a curious kid. Easily intrigued, sure, but otherwise harmless. It seems like that curiosity directed you down the wrong path now, didn't it?"

"You ask too many damn rhetorical questions," Jungkook declared lowly, setting aside his desire to ask about the fallout between this man and his brother. "Stop with the flowery language shit and just tell me what you want."

There was a slight tightening of the older male's jaw, but other than that, Bogum had no noticeable reaction. "I have everything I want, Jungkook. But I appreciate your concern over my welfare."

Jungkook glowered at the elder, frustration making his back go rigid. He wanted to ask a litany of questions - What happened to Taehyung? What the hell was going on? Was this ambush related to what happened weeks ago - but knew they'd remain unanswered. Or, perhaps, more falsehoods would be offered up in an effort to appease him. Either way, it made no sense to enter into a one-sided interrogation.

So instead, Jungkook focused on channeling all of his emotions into anger. He only paid attention to the heat prickling his skin, only concentrated on feeding the flames burning his veins. And he directed all of this hostile energy at Park Bogum, the man who used Taehyung and was potentially involved with the murders of his brother and Mrs. Kim. He forced that fire out through his eyes, letting the fury consume him until falling apart at the seams was no longer a possibility.

"I'm surprised you don't have any theories," Bogum announced with a hint of surprise after moments of silence stretched into minutes. "Based on all Namjoon once shared with me, I at least expected you to have questions. But then again, maybe I'm just inflating your intelligence. Maybe you're just along for the ride."

Jungkook knew he couldn't outright ask anything, so he shot back, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to brag about your accomplishments? Did you want to gloat about how you murdered two innocent people?"

Those words hit their mark; the older male's hands clenched into fists as he inhaled sharply. "No one was supposed to die."

There it was . . . an admission. Bogum all but confirmed his involvement in all this, or at least the attack a couple of weeks back. The elder also alluded that the ambush had been purposely orchestrated, though it didn't go according to plan. And while that information certainly helped clear some things up, there were too many missing pieces of the puzzle to see the full picture just yet.

Maybe Jungkook could goad it out of the Golden Corp. heir. "Even though Namjoon dumped you long ago, do you have any remorse over killing him? Or maybe that was also a part of your plan. He chose someone else over you, so you grouped him in with the Kim family to get revenge."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"And as for the Kim family, I get why you'd target them," Jungkook continued without hesitation. "Taking down Korean National Oil would mean less competition for your father's company."

The attempt at riling the elder failed. Bogum simply shook his head, letting a smug smile play at the corners of his lips. "You're not as smart as you think you are, Jungkook, but I appreciate the creativity. It really livens up everything. Things started to get pretty boring after you and Taehyung remained in the same place for a while."

Jungkook knew from that first day with Taehyung that they were being followed, but hearing confirmation of that fact was a bit disconcerting. He couldn't help but ask, "How did you track us? We left no trail."

"If I told you all of my secrets, what fun would that be?" Bogum answered slowly, taking the time to enunciate every single syllable. "Don't you think it's more exciting to constantly be on your toes?"

Knowing he'd get no further details there, Jungkook shifted his tactic. "Sure. It's super exciting. But do you know what I'm really having trouble understanding?"

"Why this is all happening in the first place?" Bogum supplied, that aggravating smile still in place.

"No. I don't get why you're in here with me. What use could I possibly have for you? Are you just trying to torment me for shits and giggles?"

Bogum spread his hands over his knees, cocking his head to the side as his gaze slowly trailed down Jungkook's neck. "There's only one use for you, Jungkook, and that's to keep Taehyung in line. In order to secure his cooperation, I had to capture you. I needed to prove that bad things happen to those we love if we're not careful. And it's worked so far. Taehyung is behaving quite well for me . . . Just like old times."

"Fucker," Jungkook breathed under his breath, the word inaudible to even his own ears.

"And as for the reason I'm in here with you, I had to ensure that you wouldn't do anything reckless. If you so much as set foot into that hallway, I won't hesitate to take my anger out on Taehyung again. So you see, I can easily use you two against each other in that regard. That's what happens when you love someone . . . it can be used against you."

"Your rationale is flawed," Jungkook muttered, cooling his gaze as he prepared to lie through his teeth. "You might be able to control me by threatening Taehyung, but that will never work on him. Taehyung doesn't love me. I mean nothing to him."

"Do you really think that I'm blind? That I can't see those marks all over your neck? Even if he doesn't love you, he cares about you in some regard. After all, if I remember your little display at that bar a few weeks back, he even let you grope your grimy little hands all over his body." Bogum attempted to keep his smile in place, but it faltered as he ran his hand over his own neck.

It was wishful thinking, but if he could convince Bogum that he meant nothing to Taehyung - that they weren't each other's other halfs - maybe he could more easily escape and find help. "That wasn't Tae -"

"Come on," the older male interrupted with a roll of his eyes. "You think I wouldn't recognize my ex by the back of his head? That was one particular vantage point I recall seeing quite often, bent over and -"

"Shut the fuck up," Jungkook snarled, his muscles itching to leap out of the chair and get up close and personal with this asshole.

Bogum kept going, evidently unafraid of the unvoiced threats. "Ah, I see. Did you fuck him, too? Did he beg for it like the little bitch he is?"

Whatever restraint Jungkook possessed finally snapped. In an instant, he was across the room with his bound hands digging into the elder's button-up shirt. "You know why I think you're in here with me instead of with more important people?"

"Step back now before I -" Bogum attempted to warn, but was promptly cut off.

"You don't matter," Jungkook growled in his face, finally unleashing his anger's full force. "Whatever is going on here, you're just a pawn following orders like everyone else. You have no power here. So go ahead. Threaten me with your gun. My guess is that you're not allowed to shoot it."

Before Bogum had the opportunity to respond, the sound of a throat clearing broke the tension. Jungkook turned towards the doorway, finding a short brown-haired woman with a weapon raised. There were two interesting things about her.

First, she was the woman who offered him a drink at the bar, the same woman who left with Bogum.

Second, her gun wasn't aiming at Jungkook. He knew it wasn't; Taehyung had spent too long discussing aim - detailing over and over how the slightest of shifts greatly affected one's target - for him to second guess this observation.

"Mr. Park?" She asked tentatively, sounding unsure of whether or not she was interrupting something.

Bogum threw Jungkook's hands off of him as he glanced over at her. "What?"

"We need you to run over some logistics regarding transportation for the morning," she began, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "And then there's the matter concerning your forensic scientist, of course."

"Right," Bogum responded, straightening his shirt and smoothing over his pants. "Get someone to watch over Jeon."

"Already on it. I have someone coming up now," she affirmed, throwing a soft smile in Bogum's - or was it Jungkook's? - direction.

"Fine." The older male didn't bother to spare him a parting look before he was stalking out of the room, hands clenched into fists and shoulders rigid.

Once he was gone, the woman nodded towards the chair. "I'd rest for a bit if I were you. You look like you're ready to fall over."

Jungkook didn't answer as he quickly scanned her from head to toe. Her petite frame certainly would not be a challenge if he wanted to use physical force against her, but the gun in her hand presented a challenge.

"Don't try anything stupid, Jungkook. I'm really not in the mood." She pointed to the chair with her gun, silently ordering him to sit.

"Who are you?" He finally asked, sinking into the hard chair and heaving a silent sigh of relief. Every bone in his body felt heavy, and if it wasn't for the adrenaline coursing through his system, Jungkook would pass out from exhaustion.

She pursed her lips, clearly debating whether or not to share any personal details. After a moment, she laughed. "Well, I'm -"

"Jungkook."

When Jin came tumbling into the room, Jungkook wished he felt more surprised. He wished he doubted his brother-in-law's involvement. He wished there was some crazy explanation as to why he was here with Bogum, holding Taehyung captive.

But he wasn't surprised anymore.

He didn't doubt Jin's involvement.

There was no crazy explanation.

"I'm all set here," Jin said to the woman, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for telling me about him."

She dipped her chin once - a gesture hinting slightly at respect - before slipping out into the hall. The door closed behind her, leaving Jungkook alone with his brother-in-law.

"Jungkook," Jin whispered again, carefully nearing where he sat. "I . . . I'm so sorry. You weren't supposed to get involved with any of this. From the beginning, I've tried to keep you out of it."

"And what exactly were you trying to keep me out of, Jin? Illegal activity? Murders?" Jungkook didn't want to give Jin the benefit of seeing the betrayal in his eyes, but he found himself unable to turn away. Up until everything that went down a few weeks ago, he had always trusted his brother-in-law. Especially with Namjoon off working, he had needed Jin to be a constant source of support and affection.

But look where that freely given trust got him.

"No one was supposed to die," Jin muttered while looking down at his hands, repeating the same words Bogum spoke earlier. "He promised me that there would be no violence."

"Why was there violence in the first place? What the fuck happened for you to get involved with people like Bogum?" Jungkook asked, sincerely trying to understand why someone as supposedly kind and gentle as Jin would get caught up in this sort of situation. "Was it for money? Power?"

The elder's hands trembled visibly as he ran them over his face. "Kook . . . Namjoon. Everything I'm doing, everything I've always done -"

"Don't you dare say that you're doing all of this for my brother. My brother is dead, and learning that you had something to do with what happened to him . . . How . . . How can you live with yourself? How can you stand looking in the mirror?"

A muffled sob sounded from Jin, whose shoulders shook as he rubbed at his eyes. "I never wanted this, Jungkook. Getting to this point . . . It was never my plan."

Jungkook swallowed down his caustic remarks as he stared at his brother-in-law, more confused than ever. "Tell me what the fuck is going on, Jin. Tell me why you're involved. Tell me how you're connected to Joon's death, your husband's death."

"You don't understand what's going on, Kook. You don't understand what love makes you do."

"Love doesn't make you kill people. Love doesn't make you turn your back on your family to hurt others." Jungkook shook his head, trying to figure out why he ever considered Jin to be his one of his role models. "If it does, that's not love."

"Stop, don't say that -"

"Tell me what you want with Taehyung," Jungkook cut him off, mind whirling with too much information - with too many damn questions - and not wanting to hear any more bullshit. "Is it linked to that kidnapping policy you bought in his name?"

His brother-in-law looked at him with a conflicted expression. "There are people out there who want to take advantage of who Taehyung is as the son of Korean National Oil. They want to use that fact and use him for their own personal gain. The policy was to protect him -"

"Why would I believe that? No . . . I bet your plan was to hold Tae hostage, then to collect a massive payout."

When Jin didn't say anything, Jungkook gave up completely. He wasn't going to get any answers; he wasn't going to learn anything that would help Taehyung in the long run. Unlike an action movie where the hero would use logic and intelligence to outsmart his or her enemies, all Jungkook had was brute strength, which was unfortunately inhibited by the ties around his wrists. But if only he could get his hands free, maybe he wouldn't feel so useless. Maybe he could do something, like use his taekwondo skills to overpower Jin and rescue Taehyung.

Wait . . . taekwondo . . .

A blinding rush of excitement surged through Jungkook's body as he realized he knew exactly how to get out of these zip ties. Back in the day, his former taekwondo Sabum taught all about the various methods of escaping restraints. And while they never practiced the instructed techniques with actual restraints, Jungkook made sure to memorize that information just in case.

And because of that foresight - of that sheer luck - Jungkook finally felt like he had a semblance of control tonight.

Just as he was about to put his knowledge into action, Jin stood resolutely and approached the bedroom's closet. He rummaged around for a few moments, pushing aside layers of clothing before kicking into the wall, almost as if he was searching for hollow spots.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook asked in curiosity, watching his brother-in-law smooth his hands over a panel.

"I'm getting you out of here."

"What? But . . . I thought . . ."

Jin stuck his head out of the closet, a remorseful expression pushing his lips into a quivering pout. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes, Kook. I know. But I'm still the same Jin you've always known; I'm not entirely the bad person you think I am. And I promise that I've tried my best to keep you safe, to keep Taehyung as safe as possible. But there's only so much I've been able to do."

A bitter laugh bubbled up from Jungkook's mouth, a sound both disbelieving and heartbroken. "You've tried to keep me safe? To keep Tae safe? You left me alone in that Seoul house, most likely knowing it was about to be attacked. And when you came to my family's house, you made it fairly obvious that you doubted me, that you were looking for Taehyung and wanted to harm him."

"No," the elder countered, shaking his head as he stepped back into the room. "The night of the attack in Seoul, I was trying to stop things from happening. And when I ran into you at your house, I only wanted to know where you'd been so I could lead them in the opposite direction."

Fuck, Jungkook didn't know what or who to believe anymore. He wanted to have faith, to listen to his heart that this man - his brother-in-law for fuck's sake - was a good person. But he had been kept in the dark for too long. People had lied to him for too long.

He stood on weak legs, glancing towards the door. He had to get to Taehyung as quickly as possible. "Then why -?"

His brother-in-law hesitantly edged closer, reaching out his hands like he wanted to hold Jungkook's shoulders. "Don't follow others blindly, Kook. Not if you want to be proud of the person you've become. Take it from me."

Jungkook's eyebrows furrowed together, and he knew he looked utterly baffled and skeptic. "What do you mean? What? I don't -"

A round of gunshots sounded from somewhere outside, a sudden occurrence that caused Jungkook to duck down towards the floor. Jin instantly stepped in front of him, a gun appearing in his hands and aimed out towards the noise.

"Stay down," Jin ordered, cautiously nearing the window to peer outside.

Jungkook didn't take his advice - he had to get to Taehyung now. So he rose to his feet, lifting his arms overhead and violently swinging them down towards his stomach. He let his elbows flare out and tried to get his shoulder blades as close together as possible, almost shouting in victory when the force of the action caused the zip ties to break at their weakest point.

It hurt like hell, but his hands were free.

And without hesitation, Jungkook whipped out his Sig Sauer, standing like it was loaded while knowing full well it wasn't. He aimed at Jin, so fucking grateful that he wasn't faced with the decision to shoot or not to shoot. Because even though he doubted his brother-in-law, he could never harm him. He could never shoot someone he considered family.

Even still, that didn't mean he was about to let Jin know his gun didn't have any bullets.

"Bring me to Taehyung," he ordered Jin, disengaging the safety and positioning his finger over the trigger. "Now."

Jin threw a quick look over his shoulder, his head already turning back towards the window before he registered that Jungkook was free and had a gun. When those realizations hit, he instantly dropped his own weapon and brought up his hands. "He's not here."

Jungkook's heart pulsed in his chest, a hopeful sort of throb. "Bogum told me -"

"Kook," Jin pleaded with him, eyes wide and open and vulnerable, "I promise. Bogum's guys have been on the lookout for him since they brought you in, and they don't have him. He's not in this house."

"Your promises don't mean anything to me anymore," Jungkook whispered, but a fluttering feeling in his stomach suggested that maybe - just maybe - the elder was telling the truth.

"I swear, Kook. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I'm telling you that Bogum doesn't have him," Jin urged as another series of gunshots sounded from outside. "Fuck. You need to get out of here. I don't know what's going on, and I need to get you out before they decide to move you somewhere more secure."

Jin kept his hands raised as he walked back towards the closet. He pushed open a concealed door and pointed to it. "It's a hidden exit that will bring you out to the barn behind the house. If they come looking for you, I'll cover, but you have to go now."

Jungkook slowly lowered his gun, deciding that he'd trust his gut instinct and believe that Jin was truly trying to help him. He'd also believe the elder when he said Taehyung wasn't here, that they didn't have him.

"Okay. Alright, I'll go."

A grateful sigh pushed through Jin's lips as he scanned over Jungkook one final time; his eyes stopped at the gun. "Give me the Sig."

"What? No," Jungkook stuttered, taking a step back before he fell into the correct stance, gun raised and arms extended. "This was Joonie's. It's mine now."

Jin huffed impatiently as he squared his shoulders, moving closer and closer to where Jungkook stood. "I know it was Namjoon's, now give it -"

"Step away from him," a deep, familiar voice demanded from the hidden doorway in the closet.

Jungkook nearly collapsed, his heart threatening to burst through his chest cavity and plop onto the floor. He turned, finally setting his eyes on the only person he wanted to see.

Taehyung.

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》 V A L E N W R I T I N G 《

Another info dump of a chapter, but we're getting closer to learning EVERYTHING. Until then, things will probably get worse/more confusing before they get better. You're warned!

I absolutely looooved writing the dialogue for this chapter! There were some convos included that I knew would happen from the beginning, so it was fun finally writing those!

Also, I'm sure you guys have some thoughts as to what's going on, so give me your T H E O R I E S ↴